


Common Ground

by jalapeno_jazz



Series: Madame Minister [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 02:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_jazz/pseuds/jalapeno_jazz
Summary: The enemy of my enemy is my friend...or something like that.





	Common Ground

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all...these aren't chronological. Roll with it.
> 
> LaBelladoneX...you rock.

_4:30pm, Ministry of Magic - Office of the Head Auror_

 

“You can’t go in…” the secretary’s voice trailed off as Draco stormed past him, whipping the door open.

“Have you seen this?” he bellowed, slamming the paper down on Harry Potter’s desk. “Potter… we are _trying_ to run a campaign and if you can’t keep your own staff out of trouble… You know how that reflects on her!” Draco roared.

Harry groaned as he took in the headline plastered across the evening edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

 

_SCANDAL! MINISTRY AURORS THROWN OUT OF MUGGLE STRIP CLUB_

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose; of course, Harry was already aware and had dealt with it. However, he had heard this speech before. In fact, he had heard it _several_ times in the past few months, so he knew it was much easier to let Draco get it all out before he answered him. Instead, he just sat and practiced his yogic breathing as Draco railed in front of him. It was a benefit that Ginny had recently retired from Quidditch and picked up yoga, and Harry didn’t really mind it either. After all, it kept her rather limber.

His mind wandered.

Finally, Draco seemed to have reached a pause. “Well?” He looked down at Harry, face still flushed with exertion.

Harry waved a hand lazily, “Have a seat, Malfoy.” He flicked his wand to close the door and again to summon two glasses from his shelf, while reaching to pull a bottle of Firewhisky out of a drawer.

“A little early, don’t you think, Potter?”

Harry continued, ignoring the quip, and pouring two glasses. He slid one across his desk, waiting for Draco to take it before knocking back his own. He set his glass down and raised his hand, looking like he had several things to say in response to Draco’s lecture.

“One, they weren’t Aurors; they were trainees. Two, they were not on duty; they were there for a stag party. Now that I think about it, Malfoy, I seem to recall such shenanigans at _your_ stag party, remember? Three, _if_ you had read the article, you would’ve seen that I’ve already put out a statement to that effect because — let’s face it — I can’t control the personal lives of everyone who works in the Auror Department. And four, I’ve already heard from my boss on this, so I’m not sure why I need to answer to _you_ about it.” He chuckled at that one.

“You have?” Draco asked, a bit of the wind having been taken out of his sails with this last bit of information.

“She was down here before the _Prophet_ even went to print,” Harry said with a smile. “Apparently, _someone_ gave her a heads-up.”

Draco finally sat back in his chair, “Of course, she was,” he said with a heavy sigh. 

“It will be okay, you know. We’re almost at the end.” Harry regarded Draco with a look of understanding. “And I will kill you if you repeat this but, between the two of you, I’d almost prefer to deal with _you_ at this point.”

He grimaced and poured himself another drink.

“Sorry, Potter.” Draco’s apology was genuine. “You know she’s under a lot of pressure right now. Was it bad?” He continued hesitantly.

“Well… I still have a job, and I figure we’re still friends,” Harry said wearily. “The rest will settle down after the election… at least, I hope so. However, I _did_ hear that you mucked up the timing of the photo op with the French Minister last week.”

Draco groaned and slid his glass across the desk for a refill. 

The two chatted a bit longer, strategizing how to get through the final couple of weeks before the election. While Hermione’s election as Minister for Magic was likely — based on the current polling — it was not yet a surety, and wouldn’t be until the votes were counted. And regardless, Hermione wouldn’t treat it as a _fait accompli_ until it was over and she had won. She demanded excellence from everyone on her team and everyone around her… especially her husband and her best friend.

Draco checked his watch and started to get up, much calmer than when he had entered Harry’s office. “Thanks, Potter,” he said as he turned to leave. Draco knew he didn’t need to say more than that, as Harry knew that those two words conveyed much more than a simple thanks.

“Anytime, Malfoy,” Harry replied. “Will we see you on the pitch on Sunday?”

Draco turned and regarded his former nemesis-turned-friend. “Of course. To be honest, I don’t know if I could make it through the week, if I didn’t play.” 

Harry’s face broke into a grin. Admissions like that were few and far between from Draco Malfoy. “I know I wouldn’t,” he replied. They shared a knowing look before Draco left to handle the next crisis.

  

 


End file.
